The Good Left Undone
by Aku Blossom
Summary: Those who make peaceful revolution impossible...will make violent revolution inevitable. - John F. Kennedy, 1962


**The Good Left Undone**

**~Dancing For Rain**

**By Kevin Ivy**

**Author's Note: This is the sequel to Kick at the Darkness Until It Bleeds Daylight. It seeks to explain Blossom's revelation at the end of that story, and explain how the events in "Darkness Bleeds Daylight" came to be.  
**

XxXxX

It was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the worst day of my life. A day that should have been a day of mourning. A day when the entire wretched city—a city that claimed to revere and love a hero who had saved it so many times—should have been dressed in black and marred by tears. It should have been the most miserable day the people of Townsville—especially the older generation!—suffered inconsolably. As it stood, I was the only person who really seemed to care. Even the sun had the gall to ruin the misery.

My sisters stood by my sides, looking uncomfortable and out of place. Why shouldn't they? The sun was shining brilliantly, the birds were singing blissfully, and so few people were even crying. We all stood in stuffy, uncomfortable black dresses, wearing equally uncomfortable, custom-made black shoes, watching the scarcely interested pastor mumble through a prayer.

"The Lord is my Shepard; I shall not want," I stared at the lid of the casket, unblinking. That's not to say I was emotionless. Far from it, for the first time in my life I felt I was expressing myself more than Bubbles. She stood to my right, sniffling and daintily wiping her eyes. I held her hand tightly, biting my lip as hard as I could to avoid screaming. To my left, Buttercup stood with one hand in her pocket. She merely sniffed every now and then. I admired her only vaguely misted eyes, as my own ran like rivers. As much as she tried to be nonchalant, my heart fluttered when she gave my hand a tight, comforting squeeze. If possible, it only made me cry harder.

My sisters hadn't even wanted to attend, but our position as public figures practically required our presence. Afterall, a man who was not just a celebrity, but also a precursor to our fight against evil, had passed away. I remembered it painfully, watching his life end so tenderly. I choked on a sob, recalling, clear as day, how he asked for my name with his dying breath. I'd never know if he heard me; that would be, for the rest of my life, the one tragic piece of information I could never research.

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters," For such a prominent figure to have died, the crowd was abysmal at best. No more than a hundred people, most of which spent their time glancing at their watches and shuffling their feet. No one else seemed to be crying like I was. Even the closest relative he'd ever had, sat in a wheelchair with silent tears snaking their way down his cheeks. Was it so much to ask that the end of a life be suffered?

I wanted, more than anything, to scream. More than I ever had in my life, I wanted to scream and cry and pound my fists and kick my feet. Through my sisters, holding their hands with all of my awesome, useless strength, I barely managed to keep my emotions at the breaking point. How was it that a man whom I'd only spoken with thrice could have such an effect on me? How could one life take such an emotional toll that I would be reduced to a whimpering shadow of my usual, powerful self?

And how still, could that very same death be met with such nonchalance by those around me?

"He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake," Righteousness...He had put on a cape and cowl, and called himself Captain Righteous. He fought to secure peace and justice, but in the end succumbed to the very evils he valiantly fought against. In the end...Captain Righteous, one of the greatest heroes to ever live, was just a guy. He was still tragically human, and still unable to make a difference.

Even then, through the haze of tears, I knew that somewhere in the world—somewhere in Townsville, no less—someone was robbing a bank. Someone was kidnapping a child, beating her and binding her to sell her to the highest bidder. Somewhere a war was being fought and countless lives were being lost. His entire life...had amounted to nothing. And now in death, he was given his reward for trying to be something more. To make the world something more. He was given absolutely nothing, and by tomorrow morning, he would be a figment of history. Later in the week, no one would even remember his name.

Maybe that's why I cried as hard as I did. Maybe I cried, not just because no one else would, but because I realized the true tragedy of Captain Righteous' life. In the end, his entire life's work would be in vain. The world refused to change. Why would it...

"Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me," Of course...why fear evil? Evil is so ingrained into the human soul that to abstain from evil would be an impossibility. How do I know? Because God himself told me. No...not my God. Their God. The God of this world. As I fell deeper into crisis, he appeared before me. And that's when I learned the futility of my struggle. Humans would never change, they worshiped the very source of evil itself.

Heroism was a twisting, winding road. One that...in the end became a perfect circle. Someone would rise up from the slime and sludge that covered the world, and would try to be a light in the darkness. They would fight to their very last breath, trying to change the world. But then...one day everyone wakes up and gives in to being human. Power corrupts everyone. Every human will fail to change the world. They were made for this world, they are this world. He is their God. Humans can't change. The world can't be changed by humans.

"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over," Bubbles hiccuped and moved, now hugging my arm tightly. I rested my head against hers, still unable to pull my emotions back under control. I tried to focus on the feeling of her own tears gently trickling down to my shoulder. I knew she was upset about the man lying dead before us, but I also knew that her tears were really falling for me. Her dearest, most wonderful trait had always been her undying compassion.

I heard a low sigh to my other side and my lips began to tremble. When her arm wrapped around my waist, I buried my face in Bubbles' hair and started to tremble. Buttercup hugged me even tighter, still holding my hand as tight as she could. She'd hate it if I ever said anything, but sometimes I was shocked by how much she really cares.

They're why I'm crying. I stared at that casket...filled with a lifetime of useless sacrifice. A precious life wasted on nothing at all. My sisters...fighting in vain...living in vain...and finally completing the circle. Dying...in vain.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Maybe my tears weren't entirely selfless. Maybe I also cried for myself. No...I knew I was crying for myself. I was horrified to know that my life was just a cruel joke. Nigh unlimited power, one of the most powerful minds ever conceived...and I was destined to die in vain. No human could change the world. Humans were evil. And I had been indoctrinated into their twisted kaleidescope of suffering. A perfect circle that would never end, as long as I remained inside it. But I had been told...by someone I had put all of my faith in, that I could make a difference. That for me...the world would change.

But how could I believe that if everything I'd ever done was for naught? There...there was no way to break the circle. There was no way to save the world of man. So long as He was their God, this world would forever be evil.

"Amen," Amen indeed...praise be to the wicked master of the human race. As the casket was lowered into the ground, the crowd started to disperse. I refused to move, staring at the gaping hole in the ground. I hadn't blinked in so long, watching as they buried the last remnant of an American hero. Before too long, the cemetery was empty, save for us three sisters, staring at the empty ground. Bubbles pulled away, still holding my arm. I could feel two sets of eyes on me. The tears hadn't stopped flowing, I still hadn't blinked.

_This is our fate._

"Blossom...are you going to be okay?" Bubbles whispered, her voice cracking. She tenderly rubbed my arm. Buttercup rubbed my back, sighing loudly.

"Blossom..." I swallowed and slowly shook my head. I could feel the carefully built walls beginning to crumble. My chest tightened and my entire body shook. I bit my lip, uttering the most pathetic noise I'd ever heard. There had been many times in my life when I wanted to stop being strong, but I'd always managed to reel it back in and hold everything back.

_We're going to become an empty plot of land that no one cares about...that no one remembers_

"Blossom!" I barely noticed falling to my knees. I barely acknowledged the warm arms that wrapped around me, tighter and stronger than anything I'd ever felt. I barely felt the warm body pressed against my back, or the soothing whispers in my ears. I only knew that I was screaming, that I had thrown away every last shred of my dignity and was wailing like a pitiful child.

_We can't change the world_


End file.
